Alius Casus
by omnia16
Summary: Peeta averts his gaze from the girl that stole his heart. A collection of PxK oneshots. K to M rating.
1. Isolated

**Isolated**

**Rating: M**

He's sitting through his Panem History class, staring at the long braid of the girl he hates, when an announcement requests that he goes to the office.

He tears his eyes from the braid that belongs to the girl in front of him, and he ignores the snickers and whispers. The sounds aren't hateful— no one hates him.

But he hates her.

Peeta Mellark shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks to the office of District 12's High School, imagining cutting of that long, obnoxious braid that's always on his desk.

It doesn't occur to him that thinking of all the violent ways he could remove Katniss Everdeen's braid isn't healthy.

* * *

The blankness of the Peacekeeper's face is so different from the pitying, horrified look of the guidance counselor, and Peeta's caught somewhere in between.

When Peeta doesn't say anything the brown impassive eyes of the Peacekeeper flick to the blond teen curiously, and Peeta blandly stares back at the red hair that peeks from under the white cap.

"We have a suspect in custody," the Peacekeeper says, and Peeta just looks at the pasty skin that looks so similar to Delly's…

"Who is it?" Peeta asks hoarsely, the roughness to his voice foreign to his own ears.

The Peacekeeper pauses, but Peeta recognizes the slight struggle of the Peacekeeper's rather simple mind: _should I follow protocol, or just tell the boy? Does it even matter?_

"Gale Hawthorne," the Peacekeeper emotionlessly says, and at first Peeta can only think of how different Darius is from Delly. The whole town believes the two are half-siblings, though the family doesn't comment on the gossip.

Knowing Delly's mother, Peeta knows it's most likely true.

Then Peeta thinks of what Gale Hawthorne actually means: a link to Katniss. Peeta can't believe he's been fucked over by this Seam girl again. He resolves to deal with the implications of Katniss in this crime later, forcing himself to instead focus on the real issue at hand.

"And when was this?" Peeta asks, and at the deflation in the blond teen's voice the guidance counselor comfortingly strokes his shoulder, her blue eyes glistening with tears.

"Darius, maybe…" she murmurs, gesturing to the door, but Darius ignores the incompetent woman.

"Shortly before nine o' clock. He was spotted going into the bakery only moments before it caught on fire. The owner of the shop next door found it suspicious that Gale walked out before the fire started, and he quickly alerted the authorities of Gale's involvement."

"And my parents…?"

"Your mother was burned to death; your father died of smoke inhalation."

The woman gasps and reaches for a tissue to wipe her face. Peeta can't help but feel disgusted at himself for vindictively thinking that his mother burned in hell like she deserved.

He swallows at the thought of his dead father, trying to hold back tears at thinking he'll never see his father's smile again, never see the aging man push his glasses up his nose, or hear his father's funny anecdotes of a time that seems so long ago.

Darius explains that his father was found clutching a locked box, one the Peacekeeper's saw no point in trying to open. Peeta runs his fingers around the metal box Darius hands him, and the counselor stops her sniveling long enough to curiously peer at the password locked box.

"Aren't you going to open it, Peeta?" she asks, scooting closer to him on the chair in her office. Her knee hits his, and Peeta fleetingly wonders if she's really as easy as Rye said she was.

Rye. Brett.

"What about my brothers?" Peeta asks Darius, noticing the Peacekeeper is preparing to leave. Darius shrugs and adjusts his cap.

"They weren't at the bakery."

"Do they know about the fire?" Peeta asks, his throat feeling tight again.

Peeta hates the pitying look Darius gives him, hating the sympathy in those brown eyes. "Everyone knows."

Peeta spends a few more minutes with the guidance counselor, only slightly uncomfortable with the way the young woman is pressed against his side as she says words that she thinks are comforting.

But what is he going to do now?

His parents— gone. His home— burned to the ground. His future— is there even a point to living anymore? Is there really any point to continuing this sorry existence in District 12 as the _filthy_ Seam people continue to revolt and rebel and destroy the District? Is there any point in living as the Capitol shows no signs of aiding the Merchant people, too busy with their preparation for the fucking Games?

Peeta finally manages to pry himself from the wandering hands of the guidance counselor, apologizing for not calling her Minnie like she's prefer and instead sticking with Mrs. Fields. He presses the box to his chest as he blindly walks down the halls of the school that suddenly seems too small, too constricting, as he walks to the main entrance of the school.

He's nearing the girls' restroom near his history class when the door of the bathroom swings open, revealing none other than Katniss Everdeen.

His eyes narrow at her, his grip on the box tightening as anger fills him at seeing her.

_Gale Hawthorne._

Her gray eyes blankly stare back, and Peeta notices the way her fingers reach for the tips of her braid.

_Everyone knows. _

Then a pitying, apologetic look graces her face, and Peeta can't control the fury that clenches at his chest when she steps forward.

"I'm sorry about your parents," she says quietly, and Peeta wonders if this is simply her way of trying to throw him off her trail. He knows she's with Gale; how could she possibly believe that Peeta would ever think she wasn't involved in this crime?

"Are you?" he snaps, matching her step forward and menacingly baring his teeth at her as his grip on the box tightens.

The look she gives him makes him think of that moment in the rain all those years ago, that bread, the times after…

"Peeta," she starts, and he doesn't feel like listening to her lame excuses about _that moment_ or his parent's death.

"Fuck _off_, would you? I know you've never done a fucking thing for anyone else in your life, but _please_, don't try to pretend you didn't have a _single_ fucking thing to do with this."

Katniss only looks at him, not denying nor accepting his words. Peeta waits a second for her response, thinking of all those opportunities after _that moment _she had to say something; he remembers all the times she looked past him in the hallways and during their classes.

He pushes past her, his shoulder roughly shoving hers as he makes his way to the door, focused on hating her and ignoring the pain of losing his father. He supposes he'll have to move in with Rye, or Brett even, though after Brett's gotten married it would be awkward to live with his oldest brother…

"I never meant for this to happen," she says quietly behind him, and though Peeta doesn't turn around a sneer twists his lips. As the face of the fucking rebellion, what exactly did she think a rebellion against Merchants and the Capitol consisted of? Peaceful arguments over tea in the Meadow?

"Well I can't say knowing you is something I wanted either," he bites back, pushing open the doors with enough force that he misses he sound of her faint gasp.

Even if Peeta had heard, he wouldn't have cared anyway.

* * *

District 12 is a wasteland.

Peeta trudges through the streets, miserable as he tries to figure out what the hell he's going to do now. His parents are dead: burned, as is the bakery. He can't picture himself in those mines; he can't imagine himself working along the other Merchants that have been forced to work in the death pits because of the riots.

More shops stand empty than open, and broken glass litters the streets. The only respectable, clean looking building is the Justice Building, and that's only because the Seam rebels have taken control of it, placing the Mayor and his family under quarantine at his lavish home.

He knows he should walk quickly to Rye's house, then phone Brett to let him know he's okay. At Rye's house he should even explain about the mysterious silver box, and his two older brothers can help piece together the puzzle their father left. But he can't bring himself to walk to Rye, to see his older brother quiet and afraid and so different than how he had been before the Seam began to rebel, and Peeta doesn't like it. He doesn't like how the Seam has destroyed the fragile boundaries of the world he lives in, and Katniss acted as inspiration for the sudden uprising— she had volunteered to receive the forty lashes instead of her sister for a crime Peeta can't remember— which only gives Peeta another reason to hate Katniss and— what is it the Seam people are calling this uprising? The Mockingjay Movement?

It doesn't matter, Peeta decides, and he briefly wishes Gale would be released so the Seam brat could finish the job and finish Peeta off, too.

It's as if wanting someone else around has made Peeta realize just how quiet it is, and as he rounds the street corner to head to Rye's small house, he runs into someone, and that infuriating braid whips him across his face.

"Katniss?"

"Peeta," she says slowly, her eyes blankly staring at him as if they hadn't seen each other in the school hallway only thirty minutes ago. Her eyes dart down to the silver box curiously, before meeting his accusing gaze once more. Peeta can't help but wonder is she plans to steal this from him too— was taking his parents not enough?

"Are you following me?" he asks, and she ignores this, worriedly peering around him, searching for something.

"Have you seen Prim?"

"Prim? What—"

"You should go home; Gale was released only a few minutes ago. It isn't safe for you out here, Peeta—"

"Where is everyone? Is something going on?"

"Peeta…"

"Just tell me. You owe me that much."

Pause.

"We think the Capitol is responding to—"

Katniss doesn't finish her thought as a quiet whirring noise fills the air. They both look up, and Peeta steps a bit closer to Katniss as they wildly look around for the source.

It all happens so quickly that Peeta almost misses it.

A hovercraft appears in the air, marked with the Capitol seal, and a warning alarm just has time to go off before the seal on the bottom of the hovercraft is suddenly sliding apart, opening to reveal a black nothingness—

Then the bombs are dropped, and District 12 begins to explode.

There's barely time to think before Katniss is screaming in his ear, grabbing his hand, and for once in a long time Peeta isn't disgusted by her touch. He runs with her as fire leaps from the newly dropped bombs, from the new ones, and he has just enough time to look up to see Rye's house explode before something hot sears at his back, and then he's flying through the air, and her fingers are wrenched from his as something strikes at his head, as he accidently releases the box from his hold and it goes flying somewhere that he can't see. The spiraling view of the ground rushes up to meet him and he painfully slams against it, and in the haze of pain and fear his world mercifully fades to black.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello! Haha, yes, it's me again. If you are a reader of Like Crazy, you're probably wondering why on earth I'm writing this. I need to brainstorm, so this will basically be a collection of one-shots, or short multi-chapter fics, each titled and probably a bit out of order (meaning if I were to write a second part, then it might not be the next chapter, but a later one). I'll try my best to keep up with these updates, but I'm sorry if my life gets in the way. Hate that.

The chapters will range from K-M, so please look out for that. Word count will also vary.

Anyway, please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Crash

**Crash**

**Rated: T**

"Are you happy?"

I glance at Peeta, looking up from the Memory Book I had been studying. He doesn't look at me, though; his eyes stare out the window above the sink as he grips the kitchen counter tightly.

He's been distant for days, sad, morose, and this is the only indication of the inner turmoil he's facing. The easiest words rise to my lips. _Of course I'm happy. Aren't you?_

At the last question I freeze, shoving the words back down.

If he's asking this, then he can't be happy, can he? And if he isn't happy— if I'm not happy— then what reason will he have to stay? Can't he just leave me, then?

Am I happy?

When I don't answer he looks over at me, his tired blue eyes boring into my gray irises. I don't see the man I love, the man who loves me, my _husband_— I don't see that person at all. Instead a stranger stands in front of me, a stranger that desperately seeks happiness.

But Peeta isn't a stranger—he's my best friend, my love… And despite this distance between us, I know I can't let him go. I can't, not after I've lost so many people already because of the rebellion.

So I say the only words I know will make him stay.

"I'm happy," I echo, offering a false smile, and his gaze drops from mine.

Peeta finishes cleaning the few dishes I've let build up over the past week, and without a word he quietly slips out the room, out the door, out of our house.

The silence I'm left in is too loud; the implications of his departure scream at me.

_Are you happy?_

I wonder if he's unhappy because he's lost so much—his family, his home, his bakery, a chance at untainted love—and instead is stuck with me.

* * *

**A/N:** ...And there's some agnst for ya. Oh! If anyone has any prompts they'd like to share, requests, that kind of stuff... Leave it in a review or PM me! (I love getting them!) :D


	3. Five Times

**The Five Times Peeta Tried to Seduce Katniss and the One Time He Succeeded**

**Rating: Strong T/Light M**

"I can't believe you actually dragged me here," Katniss grumbled, tugging on the silvery, sequined edge of the dress she had been forced to wear. Peeta looked away, trying to stifle his laugh as he stiffly adjusted his matching suit jacket.

"Stop complaining. I owed Marvel a favor, and—"

"More like we're here to get back in your fuck buddy's good graces," Katniss muttered, glaring across the darkened theater-cafe at Glimmer. "Marvel just wants to see you strip."

Peeta didn't bother to hide his pained look. "We've been through this: Marvel is not gay. He's just... unable to maintain a relationship with a girl for an extended amount of time."

Katniss raised her eyebrows before glancing at the script in her hands. "Because he's gay."

Peeta rolled his eyes and worriedly glanced around the slowly filling cafe. "Most of these people are other actors, right?"

Katniss peered at the other patrons as she sank into a plush chair beside the small stage. "The cafe is supposed to be closed for practice," she pointed out, "but your friends are such perverts they probably let other people in. This is why we have mutual friends, Peet, so you won't become forever alone under the influence of your creepy friends."

Peeta glared at her, twisting his own script anxiously in his hands. "My friends are not creeps."

Katniss looked up at him, her gray eyes seeming to sparkle with the help of the sparkly eyeshadow Glimmer smacked on her face. "If they weren't creepy they wouldn't make you join the 'adult cafe entertainment,' Peeta."

"Don't say it like that," Peeta chided, tugging on the leg of his tight black pants. "It's more of... A story of seduction."

Katniss scoffed as the director of aforementioned 'story of seduction' called for the opening actors to begin rehearsal.

"Story of seduction my _ass_. This is like tamed porn and you know it."

Peeta shrugged. "It'll be fine. I have no problem in feigning a sexual interest in my best friend if I'm getting paid."

Katniss ignored his first comment and her eyes widened. "We're getting paid? You didn't tell me that when you made me come with you today."

Peeta sat next to her, pushing her across the seat to make room for his tall figure. He flicked his hair from his eyes and grinned down at Katniss when he threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Yes, I am getting paid. And because you were such a whiny toad about finally getting the chance to feel me up and dry hump me— trust me, I know you've wanted to for years— I am keeping your money."

Katniss pushed his hand from her shoulder, continuing to loudly protest despite the shushes from the waiting actors around them. "You can't do that! If I have to make a porno— live, mind you— and with you of all people— you won't be the only one faking attraction— I should at least get fucking paid for it!"

Peeta only shrugged, shifting uncomfortably as the tight pants began to chafe. "Quiet down, Kantiss. You're disturbing our fellow actors."

Katniss rolled her eyes, though she did lower her voice to a whisper. "Look at you, taking this seriously. Next you'll tell me Glimmer has a truly amazing personality and that these people are perfectly normal."

Peeta chuckled at this, yawning as his gaze shifted to the opening acts dancing in what is supposed to be a provocative manner across the stage.

"Let's make a deal. If you put some effort into this, actually try to look extremely, incredibly sexy, I will pay you."

Katniss scoffed at her best friend, pushing his shoulder as the actors began to sing. "I think I should get paid for just showing up. Do you know how hard it is to fake an attraction to your best friend, especially when you're pretty sure his small brain is the approximate size of his—"

"You know that's not true. Been checking me out again, Katniss?" Peeta asked smugly, looking up from the script to raise his eyebrows at her. To her credit she only faintly blushed, but otherwise held his gaze.

"Of course, Peeta. You've caught me. Our apartment simply isn't big enough for the both of us and how large you seem to think your dick is."

Peeta laughed, his blue eyes bright as he nuzzled her cheek. "Poor Katniss. Long night? Gale keep you up with his copious amounts of truly awful sex again? Must have, because it was awfully silent last night."

"Crappy sex?" Katniss shot back. "Did you date my boyfriend before I did, Peeta? Gasp, are you gay?"

Peeta's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure Glimmer can assure you that I am most definitely not gay."

Katniss shrugged, her eyes finding the voluptuous figure of the obnoxious blond... Whose eyes were currently trained on Peeta and her sharply and with traces of malice.

"I think dragging me here was a mistake. Glimmer doesn't seem all that happy to see me..."

Peeta poked her shoulder, winking at her. "That was the plan all along, Katniss. Make Glimmer jealous so she'll be crawling back to me—"

"You had better pay me," Katniss snapped, none too pleased at being used as a pawn in his game. Peeta shook his head.

"Nope."

"But—"

"Fine, fine. Oh, wait... No."

"Peeta—"

"Isn't the gift of being seduced by me enough?"

Katniss snorted, chuckling as she brushed a few of the curls from her face. "You? Seductive?"

Peeta's eyes narrowed dangerously at her. "You don't think I can be seductive?"

Katniss laughed again, her fingers twisting around the end of her fishtails braid. "I _know_ you can't be seductive. Peeta, you're about as seductive as dead fish. Or, in an analogy you would better understand, a loaf of bread."

Peeta's blue eyes were narrow and cold as he shifted his body to face hers more directly. "Fine. New deal. On the off chance that I don't seduce you by the time we finish with this play, you can have your money. But when I seduce you," he said, his voice low and holding a note of something akin to danger, "I get to keep your money and you will finally experience a night of amazing, mind-blowing sex."

Katniss was caught in the dark blue gaze, and quickly she realized this was his intention. Peeta smirked as she reddened slightly, as he brushed his hair from his face as he gave a winning grin.

"So whaddya say, Katniss, yes? Or do you realize you've already lost?"

Katniss gray eyes narrowed at the challenge and she stuck out her hand for him to shake. Peeta's smirk dulled slightly as he took her hand in his own. With a firm shake of his hand she nodded, her jaw set in determination.

"Deal."

* * *

**A/N:** And that is my first attempt at humor, best friends KxP, and a seductive Peeta, people. Let me know if you would like a follow-up to any of the one-shots that I post, and when I reach ten chapters I will do the follow-ups!

Sorry for any errors. But please, let me know if the way I wrote Peeta is okay...


	4. Trick or— ?

**Trick or****—****?**

**Rating: T**

"Trick or treat!"

"Every damn year," Katniss muttered under her breath, shoving the bowl of candy at the small group of trick-or-treaters. "Take whatever you want, brats."

The kids glared at her, and the small boy with the puffy winter coat draped over his Batman costume pouted as his friends eagerly helped themselves to the candy. As they shoved the wrapped treats into their pumpkins, he only stamped his feet indignantly.

"Lesbian," he said smartly, his blue eyes glinting as he grabbed at the candy. Katniss' mouth fell open as she instinctively pulled the bowl back, much to the protests of the other kids. A little girl frowned, her voice squeaking as she whined about the candy. Katniss could already see the snot oozing from the girl's nose, but she turned back to the Batman-wannabe.

"Excuse me?"

He nodded, a smug grin pasted on his six-year-old face. "You're not a very nice lady. My sister says that makes you a lesbian."

Katniss' eyes narrowed as she glared at the child, waving away the other trick-or-treaters complaints about her keeping the candy from them. They grumbled as they reluctantly left the porch, and one fairy even stuck her tongue out.

"That's not what a lesbian is, kid. What are you, like four?"

His face reddened to a shade that nearly resembled his hair. "I am six years old."

Katniss leaned against the doorway and snorted. "_Sure_."

The kid's face scrunched up again and this time he blew her a raspberry.

"You're a bitch, then," he said triumphantly, and at this Katniss gaped, nearly dropping the bowl of sweets.

"You little—"

"Trick or treat!" the kid shouted, gleefully thrusting his hand into the bowl before he darted down the walk, running to his mother waiting at the curb.

"Batman isn't even original!" Katniss shouted after him, earning a strange, worried look from the child's mother as she ushered him to the next house. Katniss slammed the door, angrily setting the candy bowl on the table as she fumed over the kid's pathetic attempt at wearing such an overused costume.

She hated Batman since she was dragged to Gale's nerd convention to discuss the original, overly cheesy movie versions from before the seventies, and she especially hated Halloween. Well, not always. Since they had moved into the suburban neighborhood and suddenly being kind to annoying children was expected, she had come to detest the sugary holiday, if only because Peeta forced her to pass out candy to the tiny monsters, claiming he had to bake for their neighborhood's Fall Festival.

Really, she found the neighborhood a bit too… _suburban_.

Peeta walked into the front hall, dressed in a tight, form-form-fitting Batman costume he had surely overpaid for. He smiled at her winningly as she could only stare at the way the tight black fabric accented the lean muscles of his body.

"How much did you pay for that?" Katniss blurted, unable to stop her gaze from lingering on every plane of his body.

Peeta smirked. "Too much."

Katniss looked away, anger at the shorter Batman and trick-or-treaters and the pressing weight of needing children of her own to fit into this neighborhood fading as all she could suddenly think of was Peeta...

"Trick or treat?" Peeta asked quickly, and her gaze snapped to him.

"What?"

Peeta patiently looked at his wife, his lips curling into a smile. "Trick- or- treat?"

Katniss could already picture herself kissing him, as he wore that mask that made him look shades more mysterious, shades more suggestive, erotic as the kiss became more heated, so intense that her toes would curl with pleasure...

"Treat," she squeaked out, and Peeta's lips pulled into a smug smirk.

"Happy Halloween," he said lowly, before pressing his lips to hers, hard, in a rough kiss that made lights dance behind her closed eyelids.

Oh, no. Maybe Batman, Halloween, hell, even the fucking children with their now _cute_ (their chubby fingers, greedy grins really didn't seem as demonic anymore) faces weren't so bad after all.

She could get used to the married life.

* * *

**A/N:** Written yesterday on a sugar high after taking a lot of my friends' candy. Yum. :P

Anyone have any funny Halloween stories to share?


	5. Blue

**Blue**

**Rating: T**

"She's beautiful," Peeta whispers, trailing his finger down the baby's soft cheek. His wife smiles tiredly at him, content with watching her husband fawn over the newborn. She glances around the unfamiliar home, noting the slopes of the ceiling and walls that mirrored her own house.

It's her first time in this house since the new couple moved in, and she's wondered about the changes they've made to the home.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Peeta asks, his voice soft and cooing as he gazes down at the baby in his arms. She turns her attention back to him, a slight smile on her face as she watches Peeta's pale skin scrunch and twist as he makes strange faces at the baby.

The baby stares up at him with wide, gray eyes that almost seem to hold specks of blue, his wife thinks, and her smile fades as she looks away from her husband.

Her gazes sweeps over the room once more, briefly pausing over the kitchen door the couple had disappeared through. But then her bright blue gaze roves over the room once more, and she carefully eyes the many pictures of her husband and the dark-haired woman littering the picture frames.

In many of them they're smiling at the camera; in most they're alone. In a few they seem to be caught in a celebration sorts, surrounded by others and matching grins pasted on everyone's face. In a couple there's a sad, haunted look in the woman's gray eyes, and a helpless, angry look in Peeta's. In almost all of the pictures, her husband's eyes are trained on the woman, watching her so intently that it's almost as if he's afraid the woman will disappear.

She doesn't know what the pictures mean.

She doesn't know what the lingering gazes, close contact, and the number of pictures coating the walls really mean; Peeta's never mentioned the photos before.

The kitchen door opens, and the gray-eyed woman walks out, a blank look on her face as she stares straight ahead. As the woman slowly walks her gaze lands on Peeta, and her face suddenly seems brighter and a smile pulls at her lips when she sees him cradling her child.

Peeta's wife only watches silently.

The woman with the gray eyes walks over to him, her small smile large now and opening as she laughs at something. She gently places her dark hand on his shoulder, and moves her free hand down her child's cheek. She leans on the chair Peeta sits on, and his blue-eyed wife only watches from across the room as her husband laughs and laughs and holds a child that is not hers.

The kitchen door quietly opens once more, and the man with the gray eyes steps out, his gaze caught on his wife. His gray eyes alertly note the way she seems to lean greatly on the blue eyed man without really touching him at all, and he doesn't say anything as he clenches his jaw. He notices the way his wife immerses herself in time with this man, how she seems so happy it almost hurts him to see because he can't remember her smile as bright as this with him.

The blue eyed woman in the room is silent, like him, and he wonders if she sees what he sees so clearly.

She smiles gently at him, her blue eyes shining and he knows that she sees it, too.

They simply watch the blue-eyed man and the woman with gray eyes hold the baby, and they both notice how if the light leaking from the window shines just right on the baby, her small gray eyes seems to hold a hint of blue.

Her blue eyes turn back to the grey-eyed man at her side, and while her face is neatly blank this man's face is filled with anger and rage. He turns from the room, his fingers clenched as he disappears back into the kitchen.

Peeta's wife watches as her husband sits close to another woman, holding a child that is not hers, and she thinks of the memory book he showed her months ago, when their new neighbors first moved in.

He had pointed out his mother, telling her the woeful tale of how the blue-eyed woman desperately loved the man with blue eyes, but instead he pined after someone else.

Peeta's wife remembers the story of the mother-in-law she never met, and she remembers how cold and bitter the older woman had seemed.

Peeta's wife watches her husband hold a child that is not hers, a child she thinks is his, and she wonders if she will become old and wrinkled and cruel and bitter someday, too. She desperately loves her husband even as he looks through her to see shining gray eyes, and she violently thinks she was a fool for not realizing— for not _seeing_— the gray eyes were what he had really wanted and she was a mere consolation prize.

* * *

**A/N:** Let me know your thoughts, and any requests?


	6. Wasted

**Wasted**

**Rating: M (some disturbing talk)**

She still can't believe Coin sent him to her regiment and have given him a _gun_.

Katniss stares at the flickering fire in front of her, and for a moment she wishes Peeta had died back in the arena. It's too unnerving to see him like this; it's disconcerting to see his familiar, caring features pulled into scowls and sneers and snarls as he looks at her with disdain.

She closes her eyes, wishing the Capitol would fall at her hands and wishing she was allowed to do something actually _useful_.

A sound near her startles her from her thoughts, and her hands grip her bow as her eyes shoot open. She's immensely surprised when her eyes fall onto Peeta as he sits next to her, his face shadowed and almost menacing in the light of the fire.

"Peeta," she says slowly, uncomfortably, and he looks her over for a moment before looking into the fire. Unlike her he seems at ease, and she shifts as she thinks he's too close, even though he's so far away from her.

"I couldn't sleep," he offers after minutes of silence, and she wonders if he's sharing this information because of the unsteady truce they reached days ago when she finally decided to help him sift through his jumbled mind.

"I couldn't either," she says quietly, and his eyebrows raise at this, his blue eyes glittering with amusement.

"Aren't you on watch?" he asks, and Katniss shrugs, admitting to the half-truth. She wasn't initially signed for this watch, but she'd switched to sit with Gale for a while. Things between them had been strained since Peeta arrived, and she'd wanted to correct that. Her eyes trail over the darkened camp, and she wonders what Gale had disappeared to fetch.

"Things between us are weird," Peeta says, and Katniss' eyes snap back to his, and her fingers tighten around her bow.

"What?"

Peeta smiles, and it hurts how familiar and distant that smile is. "Come on. You've noticed it, everyone's noticed it. I know why, of course."

Her heart nearly freezes at the knowing look in his eyes, and she's afraid he's angry that she hadn't really wanted to help him regain his memories. "You do?"

He nods. "Yeah. I mean, of course it's awkward. You know, looking at me and still seeing him."

Her eyes narrow at this, and she's confused by his words. "Seeing him? Gale?"

Peeta chuckles darkly at this, but she doesn't see the familiar look of hurt and sadness in his eyes whenever Gale was mentioned between them. Instead he looks faintly annoyed and exasperated, as if believing her to be so incredibly _slow_.

"No," he clarifies. "Looking at me and seeing, you know, the person that loved you."

Katniss thinks she understands but she doesn't really want to, and she blinks at him dumbly. "What?"

Peeta rolls his shoulders tiredly and yawns gently, and his lips fall into a pitying grin. "It's gotta feel strange to look at me, who quite frankly, doesn't really like you, and still see _him_, who was sickeningly, completely in love with you."

Katniss doesn't say anything and Peeta takes this as hint to continue. "I think besides the weirdness of it all, this is actually good."

"Good?" she repeats numbly, and he nods vigorously, his eyes bright with the firelight.

"Think about it. I mean, you never loved him. I'm pretty sure you kind of resented him for fucking with your life and shoving his love on you. But think about it," he says eagerly, leaning his head forward to intensely stare into her eyes. "After this war ends you can be free— hell, _I_ can be free. We won't awkwardly burden each other anymore."

She's silent, still staring at him numbly, and Peeta sighs, though the intensity never falls from his eyes. "This is _good_, Katniss."

"Good? You hate me," she blurts, the words slipping out before she can help it. She wants to smack him, throttle him, and cry at the way he carelessly shrugs.

"I hate you because you were a bit of a bitch to me," he tells her, his tone distant and cold.

"You? I thought that was _him_," she snaps, and when his eyes angrily narrow she can't bring herself to notice how utterly wrong this conversation is.

"Me, him. It doesn't matter— you emotionally crippled him— _me_— and _I_ am moving on from it. I dislike you. I dislike your superior attitude, the way you constantly regard me as an idiot, and how you seem to disregard my feelings," Peeta snarls, and she flinches at the accusations.

"I hate you because of what the Capitol did to me, yes— I hate you because you made me love you. I hate that you're always trying to protect your family and Gale and almost never me— and I hate it that you tried to protect me, I hate that you failed, and I hate that I _don't_ hate you for failing. I hate feeling so confused all the time and drowning in this mass of things that don't make sense— and I hate that you're at the center of it all."

His voice is mean, cold, cruel; Katniss' head pounds as all she can think is _wrong, wrong, wrong_.

These words should never come from his lips, and yet they do not stop.

When he finally ceases she stares at him, her chest aching and throat dry as she clears it. "Well, then, let him know I'm sorry, will you?"

Peeta's taken aback for a moment, confused. "What?"

"Him. The one that loved," her voice catches a bit and she awkwardly coughs, "me. Tell him I'm sorry I allowed him to become you."

This Peeta— not her Peeta— is silent, as he watches her, and she knows he's thinking of her Peeta and how this would destroy him. But the clouded look that reminds her of him quickly disappears, and a thin, hateful smile is back on Peeta's face.

"He's dead," he tells her. "He burned in the arena and died when the Capitol tortured him. He lasted pretty long, though."

Her head hurts and she wants him to stop telling her all of this, but once he's latched onto her discomfort she knows he won't stop. Peeta scoots closer to her, moving almost uncomfortably close, but she doesn't say anything and waits for him to finish.

"He managed to love you when they brought out the Avoxes and electrocuted them, and he didn't break when they cut them into pieces, again and again and _again_... He even lasted when they killed Cinna in front of him. And do you know how they did it? They started with his hands and his eyes…" Peeta seems to shake himself to focus. "I can't help but admire him for persisting when they beat him, electrocuted him once, just to _show_ him how it _felt_—" Peeta sucks in a shaking breath "—and when they raped him for that week, every night… he still didn't die. Who knew it would only take a few days of those damn bees?"

Peeta looks unhinged and she's sure she doesn't look much better. But their gazes are stuck on each other and for a moment she's afraid he'll try to hurt her. She isn't really afraid of the damage he'll inflict— she has her bow to protect herself. But she's afraid that his violence will give others the opening to harm him, and despite the mania that overruns Peeta she doesn't want him to _die_. She never really wanted that, right?

"Peeta," she says shakily, softly, and before she can say anything more his mouth is pressed to hers in a messy kiss. She's surprised, and even more surprised when she begins to kiss him back. His tongue pushes against her lips and into her mouth, and she quietly moans at the contact.

He pulls away moments later, and there's something about his flushed cheeks and reddened mouth that reminds her so clearly of _her_ Peeta that tears spring to her eyes. His blue eyes are slightly widened, and a thoughtful look swims around the two pools of blue. He leans away from her, pushing more space between them, and he's silent as he looks at the fire.

"I felt that," he mutters, and she glances at him, shame mingling with her confusion.

"What?"

His eyes look up and he glares at her as his fingers probe his lips. "The kiss. I _felt_ it."

The look in his blue eyes is suddenly one of an acute hunger, and before she can show her alarm and ask him what the _hell_ he's talking about, his mouth his back on hers. Peeta kisses her with an insistent, bruising force that's meant to dominate her, force her to submit, and she kisses him back with as much anger.

Peeta pushes at the fingers she has wrapped around her bow, and Katniss reluctantly releases the bow from her grasp. She reaches for his hair, intent on burying her fingers in his soft curls, but as soon as she brushes his hair he pulls away from her, breathing heavily.

"Don't touch me," he breathes, standing as fury makes his body shake.

Katniss is beyond confused and finds her own anger simmering as she stands also, matching his anger.

"What the _hell_—" she starts, but she stops in surprise as he suddenly moves to her, his face dangerously close to her own.

"Don't ever do that again," he snarls, and she pushes him away from her angrily.

"_You_ kissed _me—_"

"You _bitch—_"

And her hand reaches out and smartly slaps his cheek.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispers, her voice breaking as those damn tears threaten to leak out. "What is this Peeta? Referring to yourself as someone else? Bullying everyone? Telling me you don't love me, shouting that you hate me and… and then kissing me?"

She looks away, guilt over his reddening cheek and unease at the stunned look in his eyes forcing her to drop his gaze. She takes a deep breath before looking up at him once more.

"Why won't you let me help you?" she begs, and this time Peeta looks away.

"You're not making this easy," he finally says, his voice low and his blue eyes hard as he stares at some point behind her.

She tiredly rubs at her neck. "Making what easy?"

"I shouldn't love you after the shit you've put me through," he hisses, and their gazes meet. "I shouldn't still feel something after what I suffered because of you."

Something clenches painfully inside of her and she cringes.

"Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't," he continues, never dropping her gaze, "but I do."

She doesn't gasp at the revelation; instead she only silently watches him with the same wary, hesitant look she's always looked at her Peeta with.

But Katniss knows the importance of his admittance. It means that somewhere, hidden under the sharp words and glares of this Peeta is still _her_ Peeta, and she thinks it won't be entirely too hard to save him.

"This is good," she says, repeating his words from earlier, but when she reaches for him he flinches away.

Katniss waits for him to say something to explain, and Peeta runs a hand through his curls. "I still feel something," he admits, holding her expectant gaze, "but I don't _want_ to feel this way. I don't want _this_."

She nods, but is silent.

She doesn't really know who Peeta really is outside of the large, overwhelming fact that he is in love with her. But she doesn't know anyone, besides Delly, that knew him well enough to help him through this.

So Katniss thinks she understands why he avoids her reaching hands, and she knows why he doesn't want her help. She'll only teach him how to accept his love for her, they both know, whether it's intentional or not. And that is why he wants nothing to do with her.

Despite the relief at finally shedding one immense burden, the fact that Peeta wants her gone hurts.

Quite a bit, actually.

But this is Peeta, and even if she doesn't love him she respects him, and she likes him. Quite a lot, actually.

So when Peeta stoically nods at her before brushing past her to return to his tent, Katniss briefly closes her eyes. She thinks of all that he's suffered, all that she and the Capitol put him through, the excitement at knowing she would see him again…

… and the pain when he tried to kill her.

Katniss sits by the fire once more, and this time she allows herself to drown in the memories of him and her and all that winning the blasted Games has brought her. Peeta's changed; she's changed; even her woods have changed.

She doesn't really know anything anymore; she doesn't trust Coin. All she has is a burning hatred for the Capitol that's almost dulled by the urge to simply hide from the war and her Mockingjay responsibilities.

Katniss stares into the fire, and she wants to cry about Peeta and all of it.

But Katniss only likes him greatly, she doesn't love him, so despite the tears brimming in her eyes she doesn't let a single one fall.

* * *

**A/N:** Random bit from Mockingjay. Around the time when they were pretending to be soldiers. Yeah, this one is a bit shitty but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. So how 'bout that angst. Hope this one was understandable, last chapter may have been a bit confusing.

But I seriously love this Peeta; you know, the one that wants to kill her and stuff. XD

ahh unrequited love.

Oh, and **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or the characters.**

**Let me know what you think and drop me a review with any requests you might have! Ah, and feel free to point out mistakes, too.**


	7. Real

**Real**

**Rating: T**

_Dear Peeta,_

_I don't know why I am writing you this letter, when in fact Dr. Aurelius encouraged me to write my mother. I should be writing her instead, but right now it doesn't matter as much._

_I'm writing to apologize, though. I'm sorry I left. I'm so, so sorry I left and didn't say goodbye. Would it have mattered, though? Would you have finally stopped staring blankly out your front window and turned to me— would you have seen me and actually spoken to me? You hadn't done so in so long, Peeta. I came by every day and sat with you in the front room, noticing the hollowness of your cheeks and the confusing blankness in your eyes. _

_It was so difficult, Peeta, to see you like that— it was hard to see you suffer, to realize how broken you were, too. It surprised me, actually, when I realized that I wanted to help you. I __**needed**__ to help you. I wanted us to heal together and eventually realize that our broken edges fit with each other's—_

_But you were silent, ignored me, and it __**hurt**__. Sometimes I would lie in bed, wanting you by my side, wanting you to turn to in the night when the nightmares struck. You weren't there, of course; you were never there._

_I remember the only time you had actually spoken to me since you came back to District 12. Haymitch and I had met you at the train station, do you remember? Your curls were cleanly cut; you weren't so gaunt anymore; your skin was a beautiful assembly of broken fragments. We'd smiled at you; Haymitch wasn't even drunk._

_And I remember standing at the station, eagerly looking for the train, waiting for you to come home so I wouldn't feel so helpless and lost in grief anymore, because I knew I could rely on you; I could always rely on you._

_The doctor had told us you were doing better, finally cleared to return, and Haymitch and I had worked hard to clean up your house. It helped, I think, to focus on something __other than the falling parachutes, screaming and burning and Prim__—_

_You stepped of the train, your eyes shining differently than what they had in the Capitol, and what they used to, but I didn't think it mattered. But you just looked at Haymitch and I blandly, your lips a straight line, and you said so flatly, "It's just us, then."_

_My smile faded and Haymitch frowned, and he explained people were still trickling in from District 13. You clutched your single bag tightly in one hand, and we slowly, silently, made our way to Victor's Village. I carefully looked at only you and you carefully looked at everything but me._

_When we got to your porch Haymitch left us, looking between us almost guiltily, and we stood outside your house for endless moments. Finally you looked up at me, your blue eyes glinting unfamiliarly, and you murmured my name. I grinned back, relieved, but you stepped away from me, still looking at me oddly. _

"_I don't want to be here," you murmured, "everyone that cared about me is gone. Dr. Aurelius says it isn't healthy to think like that, to want to be with them, but it's hard. You need to understand that, Katniss. It's so difficult for me to keep going, and I'm so tired. I loved you, I loved you so much and it was never enough— I love you so much now, but it's different, it's easier to carry… I love you, but I'm not __**in love **__with you. I need you to understand this— what I'm going through has truly nothing to do with you, not anymore. Maybe it could have, maybe I would have needed you, but I'm so alone, you see? I'm alone and you can't make it better, Katniss. You won't stop it from hurting, you see, and I'm sorry things between us changed, but it's better now, I think… yes, it's better…"_

_Your voice stayed at a gentle murmur, your words badly stung my heart. When I came by the next week you were staring out the window, and you haven't spoken to me since._

_You must understand why I left, Peeta. I __**loved**__ you, I'm __**in love**__ with you, I'm sorry I realized it too late, I am so horribly __**alone**__ and you __**can**__ make it better but you refuse to let me help you first. So that is why I left. I need to heal, properly, and Haymitch told me the only way to do so is to leave. He wants to help you, too, but you need to let him. You need to let people help you, Peeta. __**Please**__._

_Write back soon, please, Peeta. I need your reply. _

_I'm in District 2, now, as Dr. Aurelius wishes for me to confront the problems I've scurried from. He managed to get me cleared to stay in District 2 on the accounts of me being a patient that is in need of his observance. I told him about you, and he only looked at me briefly before calmly telling me he's handling the situation. I hope to hear an update from you, then, about how your "situation" is._

_I want to come home, I want to come back to District 12. I'm supposed to see Gale tomorrow, to reconnect with him, and then in two days a welcoming event will be put on for me. I don't want to face the next few days alone, without you by my side, but I must._

_I must if I wish to get better, to heal, and despite how much it hurts that you're not here I must keep going…_

_I love you, Peeta; I'm so sorry I never said. You once told me you would stay with me always; do not abandon me now. Do not forget, and promise me you will heal. Promise me._

_Love,_

_Katniss_

* * *

**A/N:** So… it's been a while, yeah. Review, please! And leave any comments/questions/thoughts… which I guess counts as a review... So…yeah… I'm exhausted. Ahh… I think this chapter's a bit stilted, awkward, maybe filled with errors? Let me know your thoughts! Please stick with me, I know it's practically been buckets of angst but I realllly needed to get this idea out. I've got plans for _AC_! :)

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own THG, no profit is made, just borrowing the characters for _Like Crazy_, _Alius Casus, _and _Weak. _Unsure of what else to say...**


	8. A Ring, Chocolate, and Pasta

**A Ring****, Chocolate, and ****Pasta**

**Rating: T**

"Wow... So many choices. I don't know what to order," Katniss says aloud, scanning the menu of the ritzy restaurant Peeta brought her to.

He glances up at her from the menu, a small smile curling the corners of his lips. "Just stay away from the pasta, all right?"

Her nose immediately wrinkles in a scowl. "What if I wanted pasta?"

Peeta shakes his head. "I'm here to celebrate you finally getting a record deal, not to suffer public humiliation that will result emotional scars I will carry for the rest of my life."

"What's wrong with the way I eat pasta?" Katniss protests half-heartedly, choosing a fish dish instead.

Peeta raises an eyebrow, looking up from the wine selection. "It's disgusting."

She thinks about sticking her tongue out at him, but the waiter comes back for their order. Waves of disdain emanate from him, and Katniss can tell they're directed at her. She squints at the nameplate on his uniform, stifling her snickers at his ridiculous, creepy beard.

Seneca.

They order; Seneca leaves. Peeta expectantly looks at Katniss, and she avoids his gaze and looks around the overly romantic setting of the restaurant. Low lighting; Chinese lanterns hanging over the small dance area; a small jazz-like band playing gentle, soothing music; candles abundant on the tables; a never ending supply of wine. _Oh yes_, Katniss nervously thinks, awkwardly shifting in her seat. _Romance._

"So?" Peeta says, running his fingers in a slow pattern across the white tablecloth. She stares at the pattern furtively and decides the senseless figure annoys her.

"So."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "Are you going to tell me about the record deal?"

She swallows hard at this question, her heart pounding as she thinks of the meeting, of the dark hands, the curly black hair, the deep gray eyes...

"It was fine," Katniss says stiffly, reaching for her glass of wine. She takes a generous sip of it, and when she looks back at Peeta she find his eyes are narrowed.

"Katniss..."

"What?"

"As your best friend—"

"One of my only friends," she mutters, crossing her arms after adjusting the simple black straps of her dress.

"— you are required to tell me everything."

"That is so not even true—"

"I decreed it so, tonight," Peeta says in an overly somber voice, and she nearly snickers at the solemn look in his bright blue eyes.

"So?" he prompts again, and Katniss finally gives in.

"It's about our pact," Katniss says quietly, and Peeta's face freezes at the mention of the agreement they made ages ago.

"You mean the one where we decided to start having sex or the one to stop having sex?" Peeta asks, his voice slightly too smug for the causal tone Katniss knows he was aiming for. Her face flushes, and Peeta offers a large grin at her blush.

"Not those," she mutters, rubbing her fingers over the soft fabric of her dress. At his chuckle she glowers at him, glaring at him through her lashes.

"Then what...?"

"The one we made when we first moved in together."

Peeta looks confused for a moment, then his eyes suddenly clear and widen. "The one about dating, you mean?"

She bites her lip, glancing around the restaurant again. "Yeah."

He looks stunned, his eyes still wide as hurt pools in his irises. Katniss looks at him curiously, and Peeta quickly shakes his head.

"No."

"No?" Katniss repeats, confusion, annoyance, and surprise bubbling inside her as Peeta continues to shake his head.

"I said _no_."

"No, as in you don't remember...?"

"I mean _no_, as in you're not dating whatever schmuck you've picked up."

"Excuse me?" Katniss says, too bewildered to be seriously angry, and Peeta's resolute gaze holds her eyes fiercely.

"Whatever idiot you met at your record deal today, you're not dating him," Peeta insists, and Katniss' eyes narrow dangerously.

"Gale Hawthorne is not—"

"Your new producer? Um, hell no."

"I don't think this is any of your business, Peeta—"

"Yes, it very much so is my business. If you remember the pact then you'll remember that the relationship must be terminated if the other roommate protests. And this, dear roommate, is a protest."

"I don't remember that rule," Katniss fumes, her fingers angrily clenched around the cream napkin that hides the silverware. Peeta smugly grins at her, and she absently thinks of the knife inside the napkin.

"If you had bothered to read it before you signed it, you would know."

"It was three in the morning!" Katniss protests loudly, and Peeta's smug smile never slides from his face.

"Not my problem. You signed it."

"I was half asleep!"

"Oh, wait— no, again, not my problem."

"What the hell is your problem, anyway? You've never even met Gale," Katniss snaps, her fingers finding the end of her intricate braid and anxiously twisting it.

Peeta hesitates briefly before he shakes his head and sighs.

"I had a plan," he confesses, his eyes gaining an intensity she usually only saw during those months they were sex buddies. "I had a plan and you fucked it up, Katniss."

She continues to glare at him, ignoring the way his gaze reminds her of being wrapped in his sheets, his mouth on her skin... "I don't understand."

"Tonight was supposed to be perfect," Peeta sighs again, dragging his fingers through his curls. "Today's our anniversary, you know."

"Anniversary?" Katniss repeats, bemused, and Peeta quickly nods.

"Seven years ago Finnick introduced us at his frat party, to the day."

Katniss forgets her anger as a small smile steals her features. "Aw, it is. It's sweet that you remembered."

"Tonight was supposed to be perfect," Peeta groans, "and now you're angrily demanding to date another person. This is not how forever was supposed to start out."

"Forever?" Katniss repeats, beyond bewildered as she looks at Peeta's obviously distressed face. "What do you mean, 'forever'?"

Peeta gapes at Katniss, a look of self-conscious fear forcing a red tint across his cheeks.

"I..." he begins, and his eyes dart to Seneca's approaching form.

"Your requested dish," Seneca stiffly bites out, and Katniss tries to not snicker at his quirky, immensely creepy beard. Her laughs quickly die out as she longingly stares at the small plate of chocolate heaven.

"We never..."

"Thank you," Peeta hoarsely answers, nodding as Seneca set it on their table. Katniss curiously stares at the furious blush on Peeta's cheeks before her eyes hungrily dart to the small brownie squares drizzled in chocolate on the square, gold-arrow rimmed plate.

"Erm, Peeta...?"

"Just please eat the chocolate," Peeta mutters, his voice still hoarse with embarrassment. Katniss looks at him for a few minutes longer, but she shrugs as he continues to stare at the white tablecloth, the sudden flush still in his cheeks.

"Well, don't mind if I do," Katniss grins, a happy look filling her features as she hones in on the chocolate.

Peeta finally glances up at her, watching as she carefully attacks the several squares with a calculated precision he's forced to admire.

"Seven years is a long time, isn't?" Peeta casually begins, and Katniss nods without looking up from the chocolate covered plate.

"I remember how beautiful you looked that night we met," Peeta softly continues, the blush on his cheeks fading as a serious, gentle light fills his eyes.

"Thank you," Katniss tries to murmur around her fork. She looks up and smiles instead.

"Your hair was actually down, and you had on a black shirt with that short jean skirt you always wore."

"God, don't remind me," Katniss groans, half of the brownie squares gone and the plate smeared with chocolate.

"I remember how you'd always outdo Finnick at whatever ridiculous challenge he proposed, how we'd fall asleep in each other's flats after late nights of studying..."

"Mmh."

"...and how you cried when your dad died, and how you barely slept after Prim moved to Europe. I remember every moment we spent together, comforting you and encouraging your to continue your music passion, our first drunk kiss, our first real kiss, moving in together, the first time we made love, the day you decided we should stop..."

Katniss slowly brings the second to last chunk to her mouth, her eyes locked on Peeta's.

"What I'm trying to say, Katniss, is that I remember. I remember everything about you, the way you like your coffee, your Saturday morning routine, how you only drink tea on Sundays..."

The last piece disappears into her mouth, and she looks down from his serious gaze to scrape at the plate as her heart beats a bit faster, her cheeks flushing as she feels her heart flutter for a reason unknown to her.

"Katniss... I love you."

Her gaze is on its way up to look at him piercingly, because although they've said the words to each other countless times before, something sounds different about the way the three words slip from his mouth this time. But as soon as she sticks the last piece of chocolate sauce into her mouth the center of the plate is revealed, and her eyes widen.

She immediately looks up, her mouth now open as her eyes are still comically wide, and she realizes Peeta isn't in his chair anymore: he's beside her now, kneeling on his stronger leg, offering her a small box that contains a glittering ring.

"Katniss, I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to. Will you marry me?"

The restaurant is suddenly silent around them, but all Katniss can see is Peeta's shining eyes and the equally bright engagement ring.

All the times they spent together flash through her mind in a hopeless blur.

She remembers wearing that stupid skirt more often after Peeta had smiled winningly, telling her she looked beautiful in it. She remembers hanging out with her longtime friend, Finnick, more and more, suddenly enchanted by his attractive new roommate. She remembers moments spent laughing with Peeta, talking with him endlessly as the day drained into night and they still had studies to complete. She remembers the times he comforted her, especially when her father was killed in a large business building fire he and his squad had valiantly put out. She remembers watching Peeta cook for her one day in their new apartment, laughing as he told a funny story about his brothers― of course she remembers that day. She remembers how large his smile was, the twinkle in his eyes, and how she'd abruptly realized she was in love with him.

And of course, she remembers the following whirlwind of pleasure tinged with so much pain as they began to share a bed, embarking on a physical relationship she loved and loathed. Katniss remembers falling further in love with Peeta; she remembers how much it hurt to see him flirt at one of his bakeries. So yeah, she remembers ending the relationship. And now, all too recently, she can recall the meeting today, latching onto Gale's smooth flirts because he was the complete opposite of a certain blond man she loved, and maybe Peeta's opposite would love her back…

"I'm sorry, what?" Katniss blurts, snapping out of her feverish run down memory lane and focusing back on Peeta. At her baffled tone Peeta only smirks that loving, charming, shit-eating grin she loves so darn much.

"Marry me," Peeta repeats, and she continues to gape at him, even as her heart begins to frantically pound with a happy, nervous excitement she can't control.

"But― we haven't even properly dated," says Katniss, her smile dimming a bit as she thinks his proposal over. She half-notices the still silence still permeating the restaurant, but she's too focused on Peeta to care.

His grin doesn't seem to waiver a bit, Katniss admires, and she opens her mouth to remark to comment on how he probably hasn't even asked her mom for permission, ignoring her insistent accelerated heartbeat crying for her to just accept the damn proposal from the man she's irrevocably and unconditionally in love with.

"I already asked your mom for permission, and she said yes," supplies Peeta, and he shifts to avoid the muscle in his leg tensing. Again Katniss is transfixed on the way he appears nervous yet calm over her non-answers. She's pulled into thinking of how she loves him once more, and tears cloud her eyes.

"It's a bit uncomfortable down here. So, er, are you going to marry me, then? Or should I probably stand up immediately because the answer's definitely no…?"

Oh, gosh, sorry," Katniss rushes to say, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Yes, of course I'll marry you, yes. I love you; I'm in love with you. God, _yes_."

Peeta looks immensely pleased by her answer, and as he slides the ring on her finger and kisses her for the first time in months the other diners applaud.

"That was really clever," Katniss tells him later that night, her head resting on his chest. Peeta chuckles and presses his fingers into the bare skin of her back as they lounge in his bed.

"Which part?" he asks smugly, and Katniss shifts her head to make sure he sees her roll her eyes.

"The plate thing. You know, having it say 'I love you' in an extremely dramatic way."

Peeta only laughs before he tilts her head to kiss her properly.

* * *

_And later:_

"Wait a second. Did you only propose in a public place so I wouldn't force you to give an extensive explanation as to why you're suddenly proposing to me?"

"Of course not. I can give you one now if you want."

"Later. I just want to sleep now."

"Wore you out, did I?"

"…"

* * *

_And later still:_

"Oh my god you did _not_!"

"―Wha―? God, Katniss, what time is it?"

"Did you propose in public so I wouldn't say no?"

"It's four a.m., Katniss. Go back to sleep."

"Is that an admission of guilt I hear?"

"It is _four_ in the freaking _a.m_., Katniss."

"Answer me."

"…I might've."

"Did you think I'd say no?"

"…I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing wasn't completely stupid or unadvisable, and I know how you hate public confrontations, so I figured you'd say yes, even if you would take it back when we went home."

"So you thought you could at least pretend I was in love with you for just a short amount of time, even if it wasn't true?"

"…When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous."

"Because it is."

"Ouch."

"I said yes because I'm in love with you, Peeta."

"I know that now. And I asked because I'm in love with you."

"I know that now, too."

"…"

"…"

"So how did you fall in love with me, anyway?"

"It's four o' clock in the morning, Peeta. Shut the hell up and sleep."

"I mean, it's only fair if you tell me―"

"Peeta."

"But the thing with Gale―"

"I love _you_, Peeta."

"I know, but when―"

"Peeta, I'll still be in your bed later, yeah?"

"Well, yes―"

"And I'll still be in love with you in seven hours, right?"

"Yes―"

"Then what's the rush? We have forever, don't we?"

"…Yeah, we do."

She can hear the smile in his voice as it cuts through the darkness in their room. She presses herself closer to him, feels his lips on her forehead, and a smile softens her face, too, as they drift to sleep.

* * *

**A/N:** Sooooo it's been so long, and I apologize. But now it's summer, whoo-hoo! So I do plan to update a bit more.

This marks another attempt at best friends PxK, fluff PxK, and humor PxK. Please, tell me how I did. I couldn't really think of a title either, so yeah...

**Also, an important note**: once we hit **ten chapters** I plan to drop **maybe five** of these one-shots to make room for more ideas in the next set of ten. So I thought, hey! why not let a reader pick an idea/chapter/oneshot they definitely want continued!

So the **75th reviewer** can choose **one chapter **they would like to see a sequel to, which I will then, of course, oblige. The rest I'll just choose myself after much consideration. :)

How does that sound? Good? Let me know! I hope you like this chapter, and I apologize for any errors. Let me know if you catch any, please. Have a fantastic day! Smile at least once1 Say hello to at least one person! Yeah I think it's time to sleep now...


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